


Moments of Fate and Chance

by flightinflame



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Blackwing typical torture, F/F, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Sentinel/Guide, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Soul Bond, Soulmates, forced soul bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Brief oneshots in the SentinelVerse.





	1. Icecream

**Author's Note:**

> My version of sentinel/guide is a form of soul bonding - sentinels have extremely heightened senses, meaning they often get overwhelmed by their sensory input, and a guide (often their soulmate, but can be another guide) is needed to help calm them and help them focus. Soulbonds are often, although not always, romantic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Icecream - Priest reflects on his and Marzanna's relationship

"You got it on your nose darlin'," he told her, looking with fondness at the teenager on the other side of the table, chuckling to himself as she tried to lick the sweetness away. He didn't stop her, just watched and grinned.

"You had any of your feelings today?"  
"Not since we finished at practice," she answered, giving in and scrubbing at the side of her nose with her sleeve. He nodded, more than aware that he was holding a primed bomb. She got to the cone part of her treat, crunching it loudly, ignoring everything else.

He wondered how it sounded to her. He could pass as a guide, worked as one with her, but he'd never had that connection, didn't need it. It was a weakness, and he couldn't imagine much worse than finding yourself tied forever to some stranger because the universe had decided that was what you had to be. 

Most of the senior staff at Blackwing were guides. It wasn't compulsory, but it helped with a lot of the subjects, and it was easy enough with the drugs they had to create temporary links. He knew several who had tried that with Bart, one of whom had lived long enough to be recovering in the hospital, and Riggins was able to control his little pet. But he didn't need that, didn't need pills and injections to give him a link with Marzanna. He got her, and he treated her nice, better than the others. When she was coated in blood, her gaze almost blank as she tried to pick something he'd rather not consider out of her hair, he would rub her back and tell her she'd done well.

It worked better than any pill.


	2. A good thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good thing - Martin and his boys

Everyone knew that a sentinel couldn't lead a group. They felt too much, were too easily overwhelmed, blinded and deafened by the sheer amount that the world contained. They were the ones that stayed in the background, following the one who could control them. That was how the world worked.

The rowdies didn't give a fuck about how the world worked, only how they worked. Martin was in charge. Martin was the one who knew where they should be, what they should do, and the others came along for the ride. Gripps wasn't exactly Martin's guide, any more than he was Vogel's - he just knew how to help when it did get too much, holding them tight and talking them down. 

Martin knew that back There they had thought he was weak, when they had eventually realised what he was. There had even been points where they'd tried to fuck up the dynamic of the pack, to take Gripps and put him in charge, and they had failed. Because he wasn't weak, and he wasn't afraid. He could smell Blackwing a mile off, and he wasn't ever letting any of them get taken back.

Wasn't gonna let Drummer get taken either. She was a guide, and sometimes she did just that, knowing where they needed to go. But Martin would do the same. Or any of them. It didn't work in the way They had said it had to. Because they had their own thing going, and their thing was good.


	3. Soulbond Bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul Bond Bullshit - Todd thinks about his new sentinel.

Todd definitely hadn't signed up for any of this soul-bonded bullshit. He had literally been just trying to go about his day, when a madman had climbed through his window, and started systematically ruining his life. 

He walked away. He'd walked away once, and then Dirk had been taken away, tortured, and at times he felt like his attacks were connecting him to Dirk's pain. It was a stupid idea, because none of this worked like that - only his first attack had been when Dirk was taken, when the terror that he had felt had been too much for him.

Todd sometimes wondered if he was an emotional dumping ground for his boyfriend, and that sucked. 

Amanda said this shit didn't work that way - that her attacks weren't linked to the Rowdies, that they just were - but he was pretty sure that the Rowdies were wrong about this kind of shit. They were led by a sentinel, and that never ended well  
(The Agency was different. Dirk was not so much in charge as doing what the universe wanted, while Todd and Farah chased after him to pick up the pieces).

Todd had never thought he was particularly prejudiced. Things just were how they were, and he wasn't the one controlling them. Only Dirk changed things, and made things better, and made things real in a way nothing else had managed. Dirk was his, and he wasn’t going to let him go without a fight.


	4. To Guard and Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Guard and Guide - Farah meets her soulmate.

The Blacks were a family of guides, and it always went the same way. They learned to protect those around them, to keep them safe in the army or the police or the navy - there was so much that they were able to do, driven by their desire to protect.

And then there was Farah. The family disappointment, able to scrounge up some security jobs, and quite clearly a failure at that. Over thirty and still no sentinel, not to mention the whole... not being interested in men thing. She kept that one close to her chest.

She had spent two months being dragged around by a guide who seemed to be coping with the loss of his insane sentinel by turning into him. And she put up with it, because he was clearly going through a lot, but now she was in prison, and so was Todd, and Dirk was literally chained up in the parking lot, and it was quite likely that Blackwing was going to be walking in any moment and it was clear that the man who had arrested them had absolutely no idea what he was doing which made the whole thing embarrassing. She had a reputation to maintain. 

Two months without Dirk and within two minutes of his freedom, he'd been recaptured.

She didn't know what had happened in the intervening time, but judging by how antsy Todd looked in his cell, and the way they'd acted when reunited - a lot of jumping around and staring at the slightly damp man in a frankly hideous jumpsuit, but there was something - they'd held each other, of course they had, but Dirk had seemed different. He was still Dirk though, and apparently there was another case, talking about falling through a bed and not knowing if Amanda was in Blackwing or not. And before she had worked out what was happening, the police had turned up.

She heard a car pull up outside, and then felt something strange tugging at her, almost like when she was little and her brother would pull on her hair to get attention. That same tug, but from her chest. She could hear Dirk yelling outside, and just hoped she could get him out of there before Blackwing showed up. There was a chance she'd make it out, because the man was clearly an amateur - and then she'd heard a woman's woop in delight from outside.

Didn't sound like Blackwing.

She tried to put that thought aside, working on trying to tidy up the officer's desk and leaving Todd in the cell, her heart racing as she explained what had happened - or rather sidestepped what had happened by explaining her belief in the law, and her failures. She realised she had gone a little far when she registered the man on the other side of the table was looking at her like she was insane.

Todd was off talking to someone else, and she hadn't seen who before they ended up back in the cells, Todd and Dirk rooming - that was a positive at least. She had a sense that the man in charge here wasn't a total dick, and Todd and Dirk were talking again, but still not touching much. Dirk listened as Todd ranted about the universe punishing him, and she resisted the urge to hit her head against the bars because two months of this was getting overwhelming. Dirk was sounding a little desperate, trying to make it sound like it was all okay, but just as Todd gave up the sheriff walked back in saying he was letting them out.

Farah revised her mental assessment from amateur to clueless, before she caught sight of the other police officer. Who appeared to be quite possibly high, or drunk, or both. The woman stared at her, and then pushed her way past to Farah's cell, unlocking the door as Dirk was given a jacket. She heard the phrase "government prison for psychics", before the woman held out her hand. Didn't grab it, but looked at her, and Farah felt her heart racing. She wasn't the only one who could feel it then. She considered refusing, but then she nodded slightly, grabbing hold of the woman's hand. The woman stumbled slightly, nearly dropping her poptart before holding it up for a bite.  
"Hey," she murmured.  
Farah threaded her fingers with the sentinel's, overwhelmed for a moment with the feeling that she belonged, before reminding herself that she was currently a _prisoner_ and this woman was risking her job if this got found out. She snatched her hand away as the Sherrif Hobbs introduced her as Tina Tevetino, his deputy.

"Five days sober!" the woman announced, as Hobbs looked between the two of them, eyes widening slightly.  
"If you girls need to stay here-"  
"No." Farah insisted.  
"Then come on-" Hobbs began to explain, and Farah tried to ignore the headache that was building. As they left the station, the sentinel moved to walk beside her, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. Farah attempted not to respond, but couldn't help looking back. She looked almost afraid, and Farah wasn't sure if it was because she was a prisoner, or a guide, her guide- she hesitated, dropping back slightly behind the boys.  
"It's alright. I'm not going to do anything while we're your prisoners and even after that it's your call-"  
The woman, Tina, froze and then stared at her in disbelief.  
"You're kidding me right? You're gorgeous. And... well, sounds like you're making this more... nothing ever happens round here. I mean, unless you and-" She glanced up ahead, and Farah fought back a snort.  
"You're an awful police officer," she said, half-teasing, but there was a look in Tina's eyes that made her think she might have hit a little close to home. "Still, you and your partner caught us, so I guess you're better police officers than we are criminals."

Tina smiled, and Farah felt a sudden warmth inside of her. Dirk and Todd were deep in conversation with the Sheriff, and she moved a step closer, brushing a strand of hair out of Tina's face.

Maybe getting caught wasn't so bad.


	5. Try Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try Harder - Friedkin attempts to get Dirk to help at the start of S2

Supervisor Friedkin sighed, rubbing his head and staring at the paperwork that was swarming across his desk. He was beginning to wonder if someone here had the power to make paperwork multiply. Maybe the guy in the coma, he didn't seem to do anything interesting.

None of the subjects did. 

This was meant to be cool. Interesting. He was meant to be heading the X Files, and that was meant to involve a shit tonne of aliens and fun things and not any more goddamn paperwork.

He punched his desk in frustration, reaching for his squeaky toy. For a split second he thought he heard it squeak before he pressed it, but he pushed that thought aside. Incubus was unconscious because they were just fucking weird, Moloch was in a coma, Project Alpha was refusing to talk to anyone, and no one interesting had been caught yet.

With nothing else to do, and determined to ignore Moloch's attempts to drown him under a pile of paperwork, he made his way to the room where Icarus was being tested. The glass deadened the sound of the alarms and the glare of the lights, but it was still uncomfortable for him, let alone what it must be like for the other sentinel who was the other side of the glass. As he watched, the test was failed, spitting bitter liquid into the subject's mouth. Icarus spat it out, pulling off his blindfold and huffing.

"The test isn’t over," he pointed out, and Icarus looked around, frowning slightly.  
"You aren't the recording."  
"Hello?" he pressed the button on the radio, hoping that the subject might at least be interesting to talk to.  
"What have you done to my friends?" Icarus asked immediately, and Friedkin reassessed him as not actually going to be interesting.  
"We're gonna get them," he cautioned.

The sentinel looked up, his eyes widening as he glanced to the mirror.  
"So you haven't got them?" he asked, and there was hope now, and Friedkin hit his head on the glass. This was the last thing he needed. Now Icarus was planning to escape and that was just going to make things worse. He didn't want to lose the only subject that was actually any good for testing, even if it kept failing.  
"No I - they ran away, man. They ran away and they left you and you're alone here, no one's coming so just, try harder!" He ordered, raising his voice and accompanying it with a blast of the alarm. For a second he thought that Icarus was going to obey. 

Then Icarus replaced his blindfold, and went to sit cross legged in the centre of the room.  
"Shit," one of the guards muttered, turning on an alarm.  
"What?" Friedkin looked at them, wincing slightly at the blaring that leaked through from the room where the subject was held.  
"He's trying to find his guide."  
"He has a guide?" Friedkin looked, then frowned and glanced at the paperwork. "Brotzmann."  
"Brotzmann," his assistant confirmed. "Look, there was an old programme, he used to get paired up with different guides depending who was around, he could be… resistant, but it meant he would calm down, and if we do that now we could sever the link, I currently don't have a sentinel-"

"No." Friedkin frowned. "Project Icarus, carry on with the test."  
Reluctantly the subject did as he was told and Friedkin turned to his assistant.   
"Any actually useful suggestions?"

***

That was when they found out about the fact Riggins had used to let the young sentinel interact with other subjects. Friedkin had Icarus shoved in with Moloch, watching as he talked to him with surprising care and tenderness, describing his life outside. 

It wasn't good, if he kept thinking about his life outside he'd try and escape. As he listened, he heard Icarus say the government might have killed his friends, and that gave him an idea. He grinned triumphantly.  
"I've got it."  
"What?"  
"Sever the link but don't replace it," he ordered. "Then if we need to we can bring in another guide, but at least he won't keep trying to get back -" he paused. "There's the punk rock vampire dude-"  
"Sir, he's meant to be kept unconscious for the safety of-"  
"Whatever, just hurry up and sever his link and try the tests again."

With that, Friedkin went to get lunch, wondering if he was finally going to have some success. He tried not to think about it too much. He didn't want the government to find out how badly he was failing.


	6. Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too Much - Friedkin realises he's out of his depth

There was too much information. Some people said that Sentinels weren't able to fight, that they had too much in the way of emotion, too sensitive, too overwhelmed - but that was wrong. They could use their information, most of the time. The army had developed video briefings, changing pages and pages of information into something that could be processed, something that made sense.

Aside from the fact Blackwing had apparently missed the memo. They had instead decided to provide page after page of files, boxes of them, each of them setting out more information than he could handle - the words weren’t always so bad although there was a lot of them and they seemed to dance before his eyes, but the illustrations weren't really necessary, and there was no way of picking out the difference between what was important and what wasn't. That was where Ken came in.

Ken had been a lifesaver really, able to understand all of these words, all of this emotion and notes and process it into something meaningful. Mona was a shape shifter. The punk-rock vampires ate souls, and Dirk Gently should definitely not have been able to escape. He made the files into something that he could work with, and the two of them together could get Blackwing to where it needed to be. At least, that was what he had thought.

When he realised what had happened, it was too late to change anything.


	7. Take Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take Control - Tina's relationship with Hobbs

Tina knew she was a mess. She was trying to pull herself out of it - before it had simply been too much - too many feelings, too many sensations. But then Hobbs had arrived on the scene. He wasn't _her_ guide, wasn't even _a_ guide, but he was something better. He was something kinder, something that helped her take her own kind of control, that let her turn into who she wanted to be for him. 

A guide would have thought that they were in charge, but Hobbs never acted that way, even if he was her boss. He was able to give her a purpose, patient when things spun out, when she lost control of what she wanted and became driven by something baser, something wrong.

She didn't believe in soul mates or any of that crap. She believed in Hobbs.

When she found he had arrested someone, she had gone along for what happened because it had sounded like it could be fun, because there would be a chance to see a purple alligator. Only then she had met the guide. Not the male one, who already had a sentinel that seemed to make jumps faster than she could follow, but a woman. Farah. Someone who believed in what was right, and made her want to be better. She had been trying to impress her, to earn her trust and her attention. 

When Farah told her she had done well, she felt a warmth inside she hadn't known before, one she wanted to hold on to. One that she would manage to keep going, somehow.


	8. Scared Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scared Boss - Vogel and Amanda on the run

"Boss?" The boy’s voice was soft, hesitant. Amanda tried to smile, reaching out to squeeze his uninjured hand. He was trembling. She was fairly certain she was as well, unsure how she had managed to fight off an attack for this long, when she knew they were outside, that Blackwing was coming for them. "Boss, I don't wanna go back."  
"You aren't going back Vogel," she promised. It was a lie, and she was sure he knew it. But he was afraid, and she wanted to help him if she could.

He whimpered, shaking a little more, and she wondered what it was that was haunting him in particular. What nightmare he was reliving, and how she could try and pull him out. He shook more, and she rested her head on his shoulder.  
"It's okay Boss," he murmured, his normal energy receding into shaking now. "I'm sorry I went out an' showed him where I am and where you are,"  
"You didn't do anything," she promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His eyes looked at her, and she could feel him locking onto her, that terror beginning to fade as he carefully matched his breath to her own. 

"I could smell the boss," he murmured softly. "I could smell him, and… I wanna go home and be with the others but not there, don't make me go back-" 

Amanda tightened her grip around him, and shook her head.  
"You aren't going back."

As a sudden spray of bullets ripped through the air, she realised with some horror that perhaps it wasn't a lie. Perhaps there was no surviving this. She grabbed Vogel's hand, and pulled him away from the doorway, wanting to get him to safety. 

The two of them hid in the bathtub, and she held him as his terror grew, and then- and then they were falling.


	9. One of the good guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the good guys - Priest and Ken meet

Mister Priest had accepted he wasn't going to ever have what most people thought of as a relationship. He didn't want it, didn't need it. The thought of having a sentinel - well, they were always so boring. He'd been tempted, a little, by Supervisor Friedkin, enjoying the way the man seemed to think he was in charge even as all the evidence pointed otherwise. It would have been fun to see what he could do, see if he could break him.

He could have had a lot of fun there. Not to keep the guy, but - well, that chance had flown, and he couldn't say he was that sad about it. Not considering the alternative. Supervisor Adams was something altogether more interesting. Ever since he'd first heard that voice, he'd known this was a man he could work with, and Ken seemed determined to see what Blackwing could become. Ken seemed to get him as well, didn't hold him back.

Riggins and Friedkin had both thought that they could control him, that they could demand no civilians were harmed. They'd both been focused on protecting the innocent, not punishing the guilty. But Ken was different. Ken could see something, something that everyone else had missed - and Mister Priest didn't know what it was, but he looked forwards to finding out. He wanted to provide order - a natural wish for a guide, but there was more to it than that. This was a man who thought he would be the one to take control of the universe.

And Mister Priest believed him. The door closed behind Marzanna, and he smirked to himself, leaning in and half-trapping Ken against the wall. He knew this was a dangerous position to be in - if he yelled, Marzanna might be driven to reach through the wall and attack him somehow. But Ken didn't look like he wanted to yell.

The guide smirked, then reached up and ran a finger over the cut on Mister Priest's lip.  
"You need to go to Medical Mister Priest."  
He raised an eyebrow, only for Ken to lean in closer, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  
"Go and get your face seen to. I'd hate to make it worse if I grab your hair."  
That at least was enough to provoke a chuckle, and he closed the gap between them, kissing Ken. For a few seconds Ken returned the kiss, then pushed him away with a smirk.  
"Get your face fixed up. Then come to my office. We've got a lot to discuss."


End file.
